


walk beside me, love

by ivelostmyspectacles



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Episode Tag, Gen, Holding Hands, M/M, MAG159, Season/Series 04 Spoilers, Shippy Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-24
Updated: 2019-10-24
Packaged: 2021-01-02 08:28:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 622
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21158642
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ivelostmyspectacles/pseuds/ivelostmyspectacles
Summary: He thinks… he just– Martin wouldn’t get lost. He wouldn’t lose him. If he– if he’s holding onto him–[MAG159 SPOILERS]





	walk beside me, love

In a way, Martin’s right. It’s quiet here. Calm in a way that their lives haven’t been in so long. But that… that’s also how Jon knows they don’t belong here. Their lives aren’t calm and quiet; he doubts they ever will be again.

Still, the respite is… almost nice, in its way. The sound of the ocean, and distant gulls, the smell of the sea breeze and the crunch of gravel and sand as he walks. He can almost appreciate it, in ways he would have never said aloud to Peter Lukas, mostly because Jon can only appreciate it now that Martin’s standing next to him. A little too close, a little tense, the occasional sniffle over the sound of the sea. It’s only beautiful now, now that he’s found Martin.

He’ll lead them out; he knows the way. In the same way that he’d known the way through the tunnels, found his way to the panopticon, followed Martin to the damp shores of The Lonely. The door is still open. He’ll find the way.

… even still, he can’t shake the feeling he’ll lose Martin in every patch of fog they pass through. Martin doesn’t _ See; _ if Jon loses him now, Martin won’t find his way out, and Jon thinks… he thinks he might not be able to find him again if he does. It’s irrational, but terrifying, and his skin crawls with the muted fear he’s battling beneath his bones.

When Martin stumbles at his side, he reaches out to steady his arm, and lingers. He doesn’t want to let go, wants to… hold onto him, protect him, and make sure this doesn’t happen again. He doesn’t want to lose him again.

Martin mumbles some apology, and still looks scared and tired and like he feels the fear stronger now, too. Jon licks his lips and tastes the sea, salt like blood and tears, and drops his hand from Martin’s arm.

They are close enough that their hands are… near. Jon stares at Martin’s hand, and then looks back ahead. Swallows against another crescendo of anxiety and then looks back. He thinks… he just– Martin wouldn’t get lost. He wouldn’t lose him. If he– if he’s holding onto him– 

He thinks it’s supposed to be easy, but something metaphorically locks him into place. He’s _ cold _ in the realm of The Lonely, and his hand feels so far away. Jon swallows and stares ahead, and feels the fear grow the further they walk.

It feels like he’s near to suffocate when he finally twitches his fingers the inch between them to touch at the back of Martin’s knuckles.

Martin _ flinches, _ and so does Jon; something in him wants to wrench himself the full foot away and– and… he doesn’t know. He opens his mouth to apologize, but nothing comes out.

Martin stares at him, wide-eyed, and then… just… lowers his hand again, mumbling something that gets lost in the fog and the rushing in Jon’s ears.

But their hands are even closer now.

He’s _ fidgeting, _ wringing the hand that _ isn’t _ close to Martin, fingers clenching and nails against his skin. He takes another breath, and tries again, the back of his hand against Martin’s and then, tentatively, his fingertips against his. He’s… looking for a opening, for reassurance, maybe. He’s seeking Martin’s approval.

He manages the vague impression of curling his fingers around Martin’s, uncertain, before Martin takes the opportunity and slots their fingers together thoroughly. Jon very nearly sags in relief.

Martin’s looking a little… _ awkward, _ a little red in the cheeks and rimming his eyes, but he loosely squeezes Jon’s hand, and doesn’t let go.

Jon… Jon doesn’t either.

He looks back ahead, and leads them out of isolation.

**Author's Note:**

> _don’t need a ring for my finger,_  
_just need a steady hand to hold._  
_don’t promise me fair sky above,_  
_don’t promise me kind road below,_  
_just walk beside me, love,  
_ _any way the wind blows._
> 
> big fucking SOBS  
thank you for now, Jonny....
> 
> also slightly chuffed to have my name announced on _this _episode


End file.
